


everything is red

by Ive_never_read_fluff



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ive_never_read_fluff/pseuds/Ive_never_read_fluff
Summary: Janus breaks his clean streak, and he feels unexpected emotions.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	everything is red

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: GLORIFIED SELF HARM
> 
> (also, idk how graphic the self harm is, i just wanna be safe! i'm pretty sure this is massively glorified, and this isn't healthy at all, please don't think that! if you're dealing with this, please talk to someone. i care about you guys ♥️)

**_you're dripping like a saturated sunrise_ **

Janus felt relieved, and he hadn't even grabbed the blade yet.

He thought he'd feel disappointed, maybe be ashamed, like he had before when he relapsed. This time was different.. why? Then again, that doesn't really matter. Not now. Not when he's too caught up in the.. endorphins, that's the closest he can come to describe what he'd feeling.

**_you're spilling like an overflowing sink_ **

The emotions he'd felt the last couple of days were so.. huge. They were starting to spill over. But not-- not like they usually do. He's felt so much worse. 

Well, he doesn't particularly know, seeing as he's blocked most memories so much that he can't even say which memories or under which circumstance they happened, all he knows is he thinks he's felt worse. 

**_you're ripped at every edge_ **

He had felt really.. not good the last few days. And he knew why. It's been nine days since his fourth suicide attempt. The second one this year. He can't tell anyone about it, for fear that they'd think he's in danger, or that he wouldn't be safe on his own. 

And the worse part? He couldn't say he'd be fine alone, he couldn't say he won't attempt again, couldn't promise to keep himself safe.

**_but you're a masterpiece_ **

But now, now it'd be okay. Cutting would make him feel better. Wouldn't it? He hoped it would, he really did. He didn't now what to do if it didn't. He'd been so lost and confused and scared for the last nine days. 

He smiled as he reached under his pillow, grabbing one of his blades.

**_and now i'm tearing through the pages and the ink_ **

Janus rolled up his sleeve and slashed his wrist. Once, the blood rising up and spilling over and dripping down his arm. Twice, it was white for about two seconds before the blood started filling itself in and gushed out and over. Three times, it starts to sting, but not in a painful, unbearable way, instead it feels nice. 

Janus laughs, why didn't he do this earlier? Why'd he think cutting was bad? Why didn't he want to do it? It's great, he feels so calm, relaxed, and so.. good. 

Four times, five times, and more and more until his wrist and arm is covered in deep cuts, gushing blood and getting it all over his sheets. 

**_everything is {red}_ **

There's blood covering everything. His sleeves, his pillow, his sheets, his blanket, the rags he uses to clean up the cuts-- everything. Instead of feeling panicked like he would before, he feels relieved. Happy, lighter, he feels okay, better than okay, he feels almost high.

He felt as if he was on top of the world.

Why didn't he do this before? His mind is blank aside from the lightness, the goodness. 

**_his pills, his hands, his jeans_ **

He overdosed as a suicide attempt, nine days ago. He still has the pill bottle by his bed. That doesn't really matter right now, though, because as he's cutting, he knows he'll be okay. He won't attempt again for at least a while.. he's okay now. 

He can cope. He can make himself feel good. He can relieve stress, so he'll be okay. He'll live. He doesn't have to be stressed, he'll be just fine. 

**_and now i'm covered in the colors_ **

As the blood continues to pour out, he can't help but feel a little bit bad for how much he's probably glorified cutting. It's okay though, he doesn't need to worry anymore, he can cut, everything will be okay. 

He will be okay. 

**_pulled apart at the seams_ **

It was starting to hurt, kinda felt like his skin was being ripped apart. He couldn't help but smile, almost laughing, he felt so fucking high. So fucking good. He never wanted his to end, he felt good. Better than he remembers being in the last few years. 

(That was probably some variation of bad, but it doesn't matter, because he likes it.)

**_and it's {red}_ **

He should probably clean up, there's red staining so much of his stuff. He can't find himself to care, however it does make him smile. He did this. This shows how good he feels, how much bad feelings he released. 

He kept smiling, replaying this lyrics in his head, while he slowly reached for more baby wipes (he heard toilet paper could be bad, and he didn't have anything else besides old baby wipes).

**_and it's blue_ **

He crashed. 

All the happy feelings dissipated momentarily, and he felt terrible. So bad. What did he just do? Why did he break his eleven day clean streak? That was the longest he's been clean since January.. he's such a disappointment. He's failed his friend. 

God, can't he do fucking anything right? He sucks, fuck, why is he so stupid? Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , he should've just attempted when he wake up and saw it was unsuccessful, why has he stayed this long anyway? Why didn't he just keep attempting, over and over and over and over again, multiple full bottles, deep, deep cuts, bleeding out, hearing nothing but his sobs and the beating of his heart-- why doesn't he do that? 

**_everything is gray_ **

Right.. yes, he still has issues, he always will, but he can cut. Cutting can make it better. Will make it better. He can be okay, he will be okay. None of that matters, as long as he can cut. He may be all those things, and he probably should've killed himself, he probably still should, but it doesn't matter. The high is back, just enough, he feels okay, he feels good.

He's okay, and he will be okay tommorow. He feels a little sad as he puts his blade away. But it's okay, he can do it again tommorow. He is okay tonight, and he can be okay tommorow. As long as he cuts. 

For the first time in months, he was able to sleep without interruptions, and it was peaceful.


End file.
